Maine Down
by Sweetloot
Summary: "This pile of idiocy had become a tradition that Maine had been, all reluctant stiff limbs and unhappy scowls, dragged to." Or, why Maine refuses to sit on the couch. (Freelancer Apartment AU).


(Originally written July 20th 2014)

* * *

This was unacceptable.

This pile of idiocy had become a tradition that Maine had been, all reluctant stiff limbs and unhappy scowls, dragged to (well, not really _dragged_ to, because no one could drag Maine anywhere. He either moved on his own or someone was left to push against his back or pull on his arm with about as much success as one would have making a stubborn elephant do what they wanted).

He still wasn't sure why he let himself be put into this situation in the first place...

...oh, right, Carolina.

Carolina was the unofficial "leader" of what Wyoming had sarcastically called the "Freelancers," a rag-tag group of friends living in the same apartment building and frequenting each others' apartments so much that they started to forget who actually lived where, and she decided that they were going to start doing movie nights once a week so that all of them could have an opportunity to be under the same roof at the same time (each person's busy and conflicting schedules sometimes making that difficult to do).

Maine had grunted a _'sure'_ when Carolina turned an expectant look towards him after she made the suggestion.

Florida had agreed to it rather quickly, saying that it would be good to have some positive energy around all of them. He then grinned a wide, almost too white slash of a smile that cut a wicked line into his tan features, saying that he had the perfect horror movies to bring.

Wyoming had just shrugged, saying that he didn't really care as his Thursdays were generally free and as long as he didn't have to buy the food then he could sit down and watch one of Florida's gore-fests with the rest of them.

South had grumbled, saying as long as she got to have her thriller movies then she was game, but she put her foot down on watching kid shit, saying she got enough of that with North and his spawn.

North had frowned at her, saying she shouldn't talk about Theta that way, he was her nephew after all. She just sneered at him. North turned his attention away from his sister to tell Carolina that he was okay with it, so long as he got to bring Theta during the kid-friendly movies. Carolina had agreed, saying that she and York would probably be bringing Delta some time anyway. York just hummed, giving a thumbs up for his vote on the whole matter.

Wash had said that he didn't mind what they watched so long as he could get in a few sci-fi movies every once in a while. York had throw a pillow at Wash saying that, sure, he could get all geek-y as long as he didn't infect the rest of them. Wash threw the pillow back and told him to shut up before he dragged out York's stash of horrible romantic comedies.

York had defended his choice of movies saying that they were classics but stopped teasing Wash before South could hear and use it against him one day.

Connie had been reclining against the arm of the couch, feet propped up in Maine's lap, chewing what Maine thought was spearmint gum, before smiling and saying that it sounded like fun, but they were watching a documentary as their first movie or they could all find themselves another flat-screen TV that none of their other friends had to mooch off of.

After some annoyed muttering and a harsh _'fuck that'_ from South, Carolina quieted them all down by saying that she'd buy the pizza.

Several boxes of pizza, two tubs of ice-cream, and over half a documentary later, most everyone was passed out in Connie's apartment, all in various states of sleep.

Maine would not have given a bored shrug when Connie had asked where he wanted to sit if he had know that this was going to be the outcome.

He was sitting on the left side of the couch, Connie curled up in his lap and her head laying on his chest, her brown hair rising and falling as he breathed.

Wash was sitting on the floor, his head tilted back and laying against Maine's knee, his mouth hung open as he snored every so often.

Carolina was sitting on the couch with Maine on his right, York asleep on her shoulder while she leaned against the arm of it, eyes half open while she continued to watch the movie.

Wyoming and Florida were on the love-seat, each leaning against the other. Florida's long, black hair was coming out of its ponytail, a few of the strands falling into his downward-tilting face. Wyoming was muttering something, his eyes twitching as he turned to lean more fully into Florida's shoulder, Florida's head tilting to settle into Wyoming's hair.

North and South were sitting on beanbag chairs closer to the TV, South's feet in North's lap, her arms crossed, and North leaning against his hand, head bobbing back up every so often as his face slipped from its perch and he woke himself up, only to fall back asleep to repeat process.

And Maine was seriously debated just standing up and forcibly extracting himself from this foolishness, but Carolina must have sensed his intentions, because her attention was no longer on the TV screen, instead she was giving him a judging look, a single red eyebrow daring him to interrupt the calm atmosphere.

Maine just sighed, settling back down into the cushions, careful not to jostle Wash's head from where it was still leaning against his knee, and to not accidentally let Connie slip off his lap.

Maine heard Carolina snicker, saw her amused smile from when he cast a glance at her, saw how York opened one eye, watching the predicament Maine was in, before smirking at him and going back to sleep.

Maine grumbled quietly, waiting for Carolina's attention to be drawn back to the documentary still playing in the background, before he looked down at Connie, saw the way she nuzzled into the fabric of his shirt, before humming in her sleep.

He looked at Wash, saw the way he turned more fully to be laying against Maine's leg, his face calm and lacking any sign of the nightmares that Maine knew his friend was sometimes plagued with.

He turned and saw Carolina slip into sleep, her arm settling across York's shoulders, and, as Maine scanned the rest of the room looking at his sleeping friends, he thought that maybe the situation wasn't so bad after all.

He still refuses to sit on the couch at next week's movie night, if only to avoid having the blood circulation cut off from his legs and spending over an hour trapped in a pile of his idiot friends while having to pee.

He still ends up in the middle anyway.

Every.

Damn.

Time.

_Sigh._


End file.
